Obsession
by CrazyMichelle
Summary: He was the first to hit him, the first to have been saved from him, the first person he became obsessed over... Could he be the first he could love? GaaLee/LeeGaa
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:** {So... my first attempt at a non-one-shot Naruto fanfic. And hopefully to be my first completed non-one-shot. :D One can only hope. XD That being said, I hope you all enjoy it. And that it's not too over-used a plot, or too OOC, or too poorly written. x.x Yeah, I have doubts about my abilities sometimes. XD I'm always afraid I'll end up being OOC or something. So _please_, if I am, tell me. I'll do my best to fix it. Or if there's any other problem you have, then don't be afraid to tell me. I'm an extremely inexperienced fanfic writer, it'd benefit me greatly if I had some constructive criticism. :3 And you won't be hated at all for your opinion. So, feel free to flame, worship, whatever! Just as long as it's your true opinion about my writing, ect, and not just based on the fact that it's about Gaara and/or Lee. So yeah. End mini rant thing now. XD

Oh! And if you get any plot ideas while reading, don't be afraid to share! If I think it's a good one, and I use it, I'll credit you! :3 YAY~

Read, Favorite, Review, Critique. Whichever you want. :3 Just as long as you ENJOY~}

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Gaara remembered those years up to the chunin exams as nothing more then a blur of agonized faces and a sea of spilled blood. That had been his purpose then: to kill, to soak his sand in the crimson life's liquid of his victims in order to prove his existence. It was nothing personal against those he murdered. Oh no, it was merely his reason for living, his answer to the question of why he still breathed and his mother did not. It was how he survived each day, and night, alone. Without the love of friends, without the love of family. Without a mother...

That is, until _him._..

It had begun just like any other fight. Confidence had emitted from the green-clad ninja almost like it were a sort of cologne he wore. Despite this, his attacks had fallen ineffectively against Gaara's sand barrier. Yet, this one didn't give up, nor did he seem very fazed by his failure. Instead, he continued to persist, with growing fervor, until the impossible happened.

Gaara had been hit. _Gaara_, who had never suffered an injury before, not even by his own hands, had been _hit._

It had been a monumental moment. One that had snapped the redhead out of his almost mindless routine and caused a spark of passion in his chest. This weird looking boy would be a challenge; one which he may, for once, truly enjoy crushing. Along with anticipation came a slight slip of control. As his sand armor was cracked, and began to crumble and fall off onto the ground, he let all those watching see beneath the surface. His normally static face was twisted into a rare reflection of his inner thoughts-- for once his outer appearance mirrored the insanity within. He could feel all the spectators shiver in fear; the air was tense with it.

He had to actually fight, actually _struggle_ to win. It was... delightful. A strange sort of glee filled him, and the feeling was alien to him, yet, in a way, refreshing. He had never felt so alive. His mouth was watering as the fight finally drew to a close and his sand wrapped itself around his opponent's worn out limbs. Something within him growled in satisfaction as the Konoha ninja's blood flowed. A wicked sneer stretched his face as he clawed the air in a final move that would end it all.

But it was a move that never came...

His eyes widened in shock. For a moment, he had thought that the defeated leaf ninja had rose up and deflected his attack... But, no. It was his sensei; the two were so alike in mannerisms and style that Gaara's eyes had mistaken them. A hand shot up to his head as a flood of memories, emotion, and confusion slammed into his mind.

Back then, he hadn't understood why Gai had stood in his way. Relationships, like so many other things involving emotions, were foreign and confusing to him. He just couldn't understand. It wasn't until his Naruto-induced wake up call that he could even begin to comprehend the reasons behind Gai's actions. But even with the partial understanding that he had now, he knew the result back then wouldn't have changed.

A feeling of possession had crept into Gaara's mind after his victory, _his kill_, had been taken from him. Though he had officially won the match, it wasn't enough for him. His sand had been fed a taste of blood, but then denied the full meal. And it annoyed him. The large browed boy began to plague his thoughts, infect his mind. It had become so bad that the redhead had actually gone out of his way to try to kill him.

It had become an _obsession._ One that should have perhaps faded with his possession of a new perspective on life.


	2. Chp 1 Adjusting to Change

**Author's Note:** {Ugh. x.x I really apologize for those of you who were waiting for this chapter. I really didn't mean to take so long, I just got really distracted by real life stuff. o.x I promise I'll try to be more timely from now on. I've got my beta reader reminding me to write a paragraph every day, at least. :3 That way, I'll get at least something done, and it won't take too long. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and I apologize if you think it's too short. I'll try and either get the next one written quickly, or have it be longer in order to compensate. XD I promise. I even have, like, 500 words of the next chapter already written. :3 So yeah. Hopefully it'll be up by no later then this weekend. Hope you guys look forward to it~ }

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To the ignorant, it would seem easy to start thinking differently, to start reasoning like a normal person for once.

But then, they weren't the ones who had to do it, were they?

Gaara's life had become a struggle; an endless battle for dominance and control unlike that which he had ever experienced prior to his battle with Naruto. Gaara's former way of life, however messed up and psychotic it may have been, had been easier.

Not that he wanted to revert back to it, by any means. But the constant fighting—Shukaku's endless resistance and complaining about no longer having his bloodthirsty lusts satisfied; forcing himself to change years of old habits; the numerous looks he got from his siblings and the other villagers, those glances of fear and uncertainty, that only served to discourage and frustrate him—had taken it's toll on Gaara. He was exhausted and the edges of his mind were beginning to grey and fade with depression and hopelessness. This was too difficult; he would never be able to do it. How could he get through this when he hardly even understood how to act and what he was supposed to do?

He didn't remember how he got through those months in Suna after the chunin exams, only that he somehow did, with, thankfully, only a few breakdowns. Not that he himself remembered those events—his mind seemed to suppress and hide away those memories; he could only get flashes and fragments if he really pushed. Shouts; bangs of fists being slammed against doors; swirls of sand; golden orbs drowning in a sea of black...

He remembered as he was beginning to lose it, that he had blamed Lee. That was one of the clear moments, one that stood out like a break in the fog that allowed a glimpse of the sparkling ebony sky.

He had been alone and restless in his room. His mind had refused to stop, continuing to analyze all the events that had gotten him to this point, agonizing over the pain and frustration he had to endure and trying to find out what single happening had started him down this path. His sand, as it often did when he was overtaken with emotion, swirled around him in a mindless frenzy, peppering the air with its spinning grains. A curved hand was against his head, it's palm pressed against an eye that was narrowed in pain and an overwhelming rage. A flash of green raced through his memories, and his thoughts lingered on the figure that had come to mind. Rock Lee. _Him,_ his mind whispered, _it is he who is the cause._ It was he who had stood up to him. He who had come closer than anyone before him to defeating the red-headed sand ninja. He who the others had copied in order to get the techniques that needed to later defeat Gaara... His grip tightened, fingers digging into his scalp.

He envisioned an alternate reality, one where he had succeeded in killing the large-browed boy. One in which he had been a little less cocky and a little more swift. He imagined the spectators' horrified faces, Naruto's wide eyes and disbelieving face, Maito Gai's cry of anguish as he realized his most precious student had been slain...

"If only I had killed him..." Gaara snarled, though, in his current state of delirium, he could not recognize whether he had stated it aloud or merely in his head.

The sand hesitated in its movements, as if contemplating the various endings his incomplete sentence could have. In it's sudden stillness, the room became quiet, yet overbearingly so. For, although there wasn't a single sound, within that silence Gaara could hear a question repeated by an endless chorus of voices. It was as if the whole room had paused, holding in all breath, all life, in anticipation of his answer.

_...What?_ The quiet echoed. _What?_

Gaara looked up, his hand remaining where it had been as he lifted his head. What would have happened if he had killed Lee? Satisfaction, victory, pride, becoming more feared... His mind supplied him with tastes of those sensations, but something else filled the pit of his stomach; a sour, heavy weight. Somehow, he knew those would not have lasted and he would have merely regressed back to his former, uncontent self.

Frustration welled up, spilling over in a wave of sand that crashed into the farthest wall. He couldn't blame the green-clad leaf nin, and so his emotions had no target at which they could take aim. Instead they overflowed into the air about him, and whatever couldn't escape in time turned and attacked Gaara himself. The sand lashed out angrily at everything within reach, riding the waves of wild emotion...

It was there that his memory grew hazy, although the state of his room when he finally seemed to come to his senses left little need to guess what had proceeded from there.

He could tell by the brief glances his siblings sent him, from the way they hurriedly looked away and carefully avoided mentioning such outbursts, that they were worried. His actions since his defeat were strange, and so drastically different from his former ones that both feared, though neither said a word, that it was a temporary thing. That one of these days their youngest sibling would become engulfed by an episode from which he never returned. And so they watched him from the corners of their eyes, always expecting each passing moment to bring an end to the act, to the dream that this reality certainly must be.

When the orders came for them to give aid to the leaf village, they believed that time to have come. Though he didn't see their worried looks, he could feel their eyes on him as he turned. Theirs, and others. The air was thick with questions left unuttered. A dry wind brushed Gaara's face, ruffling his hair as he walked slowly out into the warm night.

_What will Gaara do?_ The wind whispered. _Can he handle returning to Konoha?_

A tense silence settled over the village...


	3. Chp 2 Return to Temptation

**Author's Note:** {Again, I really apologize for the lateness. I'm an easily distracted person, and I tend to procrastinate... .'' Therefor, I'm HORRIBLE with deadlines. I am _extremely_ sorry for having led everyone on before... So, I take back what I said. I will really try to be somewhat timely, but I can't promise that I will. It's actually really likely that there will be long periods of time between updates. I know this is probably frustrating as hell, but it's how I am. =x I'd prefer taking my time to create something decent over just spewing out something that is obviously, and horribly, flawed.

But anyways, thanks to all those who read, and a special thanks to those who've had to endure this past dry spell and who've still managed to stay aboard. Please continue reading and enjoying this story. ^-^ And feel free to give any and all opinions, even the negative ones. I'm open to all. :3}

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The forest was full of life--from its highest branches, where birds perched and roosted, to its moist soil, where a variety of insects crawled and slithered across rotting leaves and erect blades of grass. A squirrel ventured out onto a branch, tail twitching, before it dashed back into the safety of its hollow. A black shoe touched down on the limb where the rodent had been not moments earlier.

Gaara of the Desert paid no heed to the wildlife that flourished around him as he lept through the trees. His mind was focused on his movements, on reaching his destination as quickly as possible. This was a mission; his first substantial one since the Chunin exams. His hands clenched in anticipation for, not just the fight that lay ahead, but for the chance to gain some answers.

After all, as far as he knew, he was headed towards Naruto, rushing to help the blonde obtain one Sasuke Uchiha and return with him to Konoha. That is what he had been told and so that is what he believed.

Imagine his surprise when he found, not a blonde dressed in fluorescent orange, but a boy dressed in green, with hair a shining ebony...

Shock rendered his body immobile for a few seconds, enough time to allow the other boy to launch an attack on his foe. Gaara recognized the swirl of bandages that was the beginnings of the move called Primary Lotus. He found himself in motion once again as Lee's kick landed against an intricate shield of overlapping bone.

He sent out a stream of sand as the man who possessed the power to control his own bones thrust forwards with an arm equipped with a trio of dense, protruding bones. The sand swirled before the man's pale hand in a graceful spiral before it expanded, pushing both leaf and sound ninja further away from each other. The dark haired boy let a startled shout escape him as he fell backwards onto the grass. He wasn't down for very long before a mass of sand gathered under him, lifting him and relocating him to the ground before Gaara's feet. He looked up at the redhead with wide eyes, his mouth open in disbelief.

"Sand?" He murmured, glancing down at the rough substance beneath him. "Am I still drunk?" His comment was ignored; Gaara stepped forward to stand in front of him.

"Gaara..." The boy's round eyes returned to the sand ninja.

"Gaara?" Repeated the albino looking man from across the field, crossing his arms before him. "So that's who you are."

He flung his arms out, and bones shot like missiles from his fingertips. Gaara didn't flinch, didn't even blink, as the tiny projectiles barreled through the air towards him. His sand arched upwards to shield him, absorbing the bones. Their momentum caused cones to form before Gaara's face until they finally broke through the film of sand and dropped uselessly to the ground. The sand slid slowly sideways to reveal part of its controller's face.

"You're hasty, aren't you?" The redhead said, his tone it's usual apathetic low.

Azure eyes flicked back to meet obsidian. At the contact came a spark of remembrance, a flash of memory.

"You..."

_His crimson hair was in constant movement as he lashed his head from one side to another in an attempt to keep up with the barrage of attacks. But his senses were too slow-- as soon as his eyes focused on one area, all that was left for him to witness was an evaporating cloud of sand. And, as soon as he was able to process what he was seeing, there was another attack, from a completely different area, a different angle. His head, as if answering the blow's call, would shift to the new area; the pattern repeated itself until at last his sand reacted too slowly and a furious blow to the head left him dazed and experiencing the first physical pain he had felt from another person in his life..._

"When we fought before, your moves had more speed and edge..." Gaara stated bluntly, shifting his gaze forward once more. He heard movement as Lee got to his feet.

"I figured you would say that." Lee said softly, tone unaccusing. "I do not hold any grudges, but I have been through a bit of trouble because of you."

Another memory danced across Gaara's mind like lightning.

_The boy watched the sand wind around his limbs with lidded eyes, his teeth grinding. He put up a meager struggle, although one could see the slight resignation in his exhausted and pained form. His head reared back, black hair flying, mouth contorting into an almost impossibly wide shape as the sand crushed all flesh and bone and muscle it held within its grasp. The scream that shot from his throat was deafening. He fell, limp, to the ground._

Gaara was silent for a moment. "Is that so?" He asked, though it seemed rhetorical.

Lee nodded and looked over towards Kimimaro. He shifted into a fighting stance with a steadying exhale of breath. Gaara's eyes cut across to him, lingering on the arm he held forward, sliding down to the leg of the same side--the limbs he had rendered useless during their battle so many months ago. He felt a twinge of something--regret, perhaps? Blood dripped onto the grass, staining it dark red and causing it to droop with heaviness. Something stirred in the pit of his stomach, awakening and shifting irritably. It moved his eyes towards the white-haired man across the field, and felt an instant, unexplained hatred towards him. It extended it's claws, revealed teeth, and crouched as if to spring...

"I'll take care of this." Despite the growling creature inside, Gaara's voice came out as it's normal, even monotone.

Lee looked over at him in surprise. "No, please be my backup!" He requested, rushing forward to continue the fight. A trail of sand raced after him to wrap around his ankle, causing him to fall forward onto the ground. He landed face-first in a pile of sand, sent out to help cushion his fall; the grains seeped into his mouth and clung to his lashes. He lifted his head, sputtering and blinking rapidly to rid himself of them. "Please, let me go!" He shouted, polite even while yelling, his hefty brows narrowed as he turned to look at the sand's controller with annoyance. He flinched in pain as he flexed something that screamed in protest, fists clenching.

"You can't do anything in that condition." The reply was blunt, but truthful. "I'll do it." He repeated. The beast within his chest purred with approval, flexing it's claws, claws that had a strong desire to embed themselves within the other man's flesh, to slice, rip, and tear at every part they could reach.

This was their battle now.

They would fulfill their mission to redeem the Sand.

And this man would pay for touching what was theirs.


End file.
